Seventy Two Hours
by Blindy
Summary: Faye bets Spike that he won't last three days without her on the Bebop and takes off for Venus. Spike thinks it'll be a breeze, but with Jet locked away in his room and Ed going through some sudden changes, will Spike make it through the next 72 hours?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimers: I do not own Cowboy Bebop. Boohoo.

Seventy-Two Hours

Staring at a ceiling.

Spike puffed on a cigarette as he lay upon the tattered yellow couch, listening to the steady hum of the Bebop's engine as it carried him through space. A song was playing on the radio and he nodded his head to the soft, steady beat.

Everything was quiet today. Ed and Ein were off the ship, snooping around the city. Upon finding out, Jet had stormed off the ship, clutching his left arm and muttering under his breath about premature death...something about, "...incompetent lunkhead, couldn't even babysit a kid..."

Spike sighed.

And the lovely Faye Valentine? She was off doing her own thing...some bounty she was after. She seemed determined to get it on her own, with no help. And of course, it was a complete secret.

Which meant, of course, that everyone knew.

With a smirk, Spike put his cigarette out in the overflowing ashtray on the table, the last silver-purple strands of smoke rising desperately in an unsuccessful protest.

"Hungry," he mumbled, making his way toward the fridge.

As he opened the door, an involuntary yet automatic sigh escaped his lips. He ticked off the names on the various containers of food. "Ed, Ein, Ed, Jet, Jet, Faye, Ein, Ein, Faye, Ein...hey...stupid dog has more food than I do..." His voice trailed off as he caught sight of a small container in the back corner. He smirked. "Hm. _Spike_. About _time_ someone thought of me..."

His first instinct as he opened the container was to gag.

Oh. Crap.

Then again, burning it would be a waste of certain fuels. So, he relabeled it, "Faye" and stuck it back in the fridge.

"Bored," he breathed. "Fucking _bored._ No food, no people. No nothing."

Suddenly, a door slammed, and in strode the scantily-clad Faye Valentine.

"Hey, cowboy. What are we pouting about today?" She asked as she sat down at the table. Spike wondered at how she could make even _this_ simple movement look skanky. "Is it hot in here?" she asked, a little too innocently. She pulled out a wad of cash from her pocket and began fanning herself. Ah, Spike thought, that explains the innocence. Now how about the stupidity?

Her hair flicked momentarily away from her face and Spike noticed a dark gash, surrounded by a bruise on her cheek.

"Wow, Faye, what's that blood on your face? Did you finally take my advice about saving money on tampons and do what I suggested?"

"Lunkhead," she breathed airily.

Spike raised an eyebrow. She hadn't even reacted...very unlike her. The bounty must have gone well. He gave an internal sigh. This could take hours. "You're all scraped up. What, your reaction speed isn't what it used to be?" Yeah. Poke the anthill.

She sneered at him. "My body _is_ eighty years old, you know."

"Wow. Is that your main pickup line or your backup?"

She continued in a light, happy voice. Even _more_ unlike her. "You're just jealous because _I _ got the bounty...and a nice stack of cash for myself."

"Yeah, which you probably owe to the rest of us."

She rolled her eyes. "Spike, I do enough around here to pay my way."

"Like what, fashion police us?"

She gave a small snarl. Ah, now we're getting there, thought Spike, and leaned back, contented, in his chair.

"No," she replied haughtily. "I do clean, you know. And I watch the brat and her mutt more than you think I do. Besides," she continued, rising from her chair, "I'm part of the team. Without me, we wouldn't have caught half of the bounties that we've had so far. And then, Spike Speigel, where would you be?"

Spike shrugged. "Asleep on the couch, minding my own damn business, _not_ developing a headache from your constant whining and nagging."

"Oh, _really_?!" she snorted in contempt. Yes, she was definitely getting mad.

I can now go to bed knowing the day was well spent, Spike thought smugly.

"Well then, I'll tell you what," she said, "how about I go on a little vacation, and _you two_ can take care of the damn dog and the girl."

"She really seems like the tomboy type, when you think about it," Spike smirked.

"Whatever." She stood and shrugged. "She's all yours for the entire week. No, wait, you know what, I don't think you two would last with her for three days." She turned and stalked away into her room.

"Women," Spike sighed. He went and deposited himself onto the couch once more, lighting up a cigarette.

A short while later, Faye reappeared, with a suitcase in tow, and her sunglasses on. "Venus, here I come, baby! Spike, you be a good boy...and remember...I'm always just a phone call away, if you find that you can't..._handle_ everything." She winked at him and slid out of the door. A few minutes later, the sound of her Redtail could be heard starting up...and then she was gone.

"Good riddance," he mumbled, as he drifted off into his own little world. Staring at the ceiling.

"She did _what_?!!"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Is it just me, or did your voice just echo throughout space?"

"She took a _vacation?! _Does she have any _idea_ how much work there is to do around here, let alone bills to pay, and bounties to track...we're one short on the team!"

Spike closed his eyes. "What _team_, Jet? She doesn't actually _do _ anything. And the only time we act like a team is when we track a bounty...and even that's a pretty shaky definition of 'team'."

"Yeah, that's what _you _think. Jesus, Spike, you just _had _ to get onto her nerves, didn't you?"

"Jet, shut up. It's no use yelling, the bitch already left. Now I just say that we enjoy these three days of silence. No nagging, no sadistic remarks, and more importantly, no PMS." Spike swung his legs around so that we was in a sitting position on the couch. "Stop complaining, Jet. We can handle this. It'll be fine. Look at it this way, you'll have one less person trying to rip off whatever loose change you have."

Jet grumbled a little. "Fine, Spike, but let me warn you, should _anything_ happen on this ship, if you screw up just once, if you let the kid and the dog run wild, I swear to God, Spike, you will not see the daylight again for a very long time."

"We're in outer space, Jet."

"Well then, you won't see any _food_ again for a very long time!"

Spike shrugged and raised an eyebrow. "What, you think that what you serve us could be classified as _food_?"

"Spike, don't tempt me..."

Spike held up his hands. "Jesus, alright. Just calm the hell down. Nothing bad is gonna happen. I can handle it from here. Even the kid and the dog."

"Good," Jet muttered. "Now, let me go fix us some dinner."

As Jet stalked off, Spike cracked his neck. It was wonderful. No Faye Valentine for three whole glorious days. Just Jet and himself, and as for the two "children", they would be easy to control.

Spike was just drifting off to sleep when all of the sudden...

"WHAAAAAHHOOOOEEEYYY!!!"

A big orange blur landed on his stomach, squishing the air out of him and making him gasp for breath.

"Ed, what the hell are you _doing_?!" Spike lurched to his feet and dusted himself off. As he reached for his pack of cigarettes, an unseen force swept them out of his grasp.

"What the...hey, Ed, give those back, damn it!!! Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Spikey should _not_ smoke!" she caroled back at him.

"Yeah, well until I quit, I need my nicotine fix to get me through the day so I can catch a bounty, get rich and buy something better. Like cigars."

Ed bounced around the room. "Well, then, Spike-Spike, I will destroy your temptation!" And with that, she threw the pack up in the air. It soared across the room, and as it landed, Ein jumped up and snatched it, then proceeding to rip it in half and devour its contents.

Spike sighed and closed his eyes. "Yeah. Cigars." He glanced at the dog. "Or maybe crack."

Spike sighed and stood, a small moan escaping his lips. God, what am I, like 50? He sauntered into the kitchen and sat at the table. Jet, who was cooking, turned and grunted. "What do you look so upset about?"

"Oh...nothing. Ein started smoking."

Jet raised an eyebrow. "Need I ask?"

Spike's silence was answer enough.

Jet shrugged and turned back to the stove. "Well, Ed has already managed to screw up stuff for me too. I'm sure no one else has ever owned a bonsai tree with no leaves. But do you see me complaining?"

Spike looked up and smirked. "No, but you're being a little rough on the bell peppers and beef."

Jet raised an eyebrow, confused. Looking down at the pan, his face crumpled as he saw that he'd been stabbing the food so maliciously that it'd been reduced to a pulp. Then, lightning fast his jaw clenched and he whirled to face Spike, snarling and jabbing with his spatula. "Well, you're not getting _any_ of this so you can go hunt for your own dinner!" He slammed out of the kitchen, and Spike heard a lock click.

He groaned. Last time Jet had locked himself in his room, he'd only reappeared three days later. Three days. Another involuntary moan escaped Spike's lips. Exactly how long it would take for all hell to break loose.

He walked into the living room and saw Ed upside down on the couch, orange strands of hair brushing the floor.

Spike twisted his neck to look at Ed. Suddenly he realized that she appeared close to tears. "Ed? What's wrong? And why are you laying like that?"

She shook her head. "Secret," she whispered, and clamped her mouth shut.

Uh oh. Spike knew that if there was something wrong enough to make Ed cry, then it was something _bad_.

"Ed, I need to know why you're so upset. You are upset, aren't you?" Spike added, with the hope that she would say she wasn't. Yeah. Right.

She shook her head again. "Ed doesn't want to tell. It's a secret from boy-boys."

Ok, so she was upset. Now Spike knew that he _really_ needed to know what was going on. If anything happened to Ed, Jet would kill him. Not to mention it would totally screw up his day.

"Ed..." he tried in a coaxing voice. "You can tell me what's going on. You can trust me."

"That's not what Faye-Faye says."

His eyebrow shot up. "Well...Faye's not here right now. And Jet's...asleep. So you need to tell someone what's going on. And seeing as I'm the only one here, it has to be me. And I care about you as much as everyone else does. You're part of our crew."

God. Where do I come _up_ with this stuff? I sound like some after-school special, he thought. Regardless, he plunged on.

"So Ed...what's bothering you? I can help."

Ed bit her lip. "I hurt."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "You're hurt?"

She nodded. "And red."

Spike took a step back. "Red? What do you mean, red?"

Ed blinked. "Like when you come back from a fight-fight and your eyes are black and blue and your nose is red and wet." Her face was getting flushed from hanging upside-down for so long.

"Red and wet?" Spike pondered this for a moment. "Like bleeding? Oh no," realization swept over him. "You're bleeding? Where?" _Crap_.

Quicker than Spike could blink, her hand rose from the floor, index finger extended, and poked him right in the...

"_Jesus_!" Spike doubled over as the pain spread through his gut. "What did you go and do that for, you twerp?!" He eased himself onto the couch, breathing heavily.

"Does it hurt Spike-Spike too? Does Spikey have it? Is it a diseeeeeeaaase?"

The pain began to recede, but Spike still remained slumped. "No, Ed, it's...um...a girl thing. Crap. I knew we kept Faye around for a reason!"

"What does Edward do?" Ed asked, holding back tears.

Spike rolled his eyes. "First you need to sit up like a normal person. Then we'll figure out what to do."

Ed shook her head. "If Edward sits, everything moves around."

_Oh, gawd._ Spike stood shakily. "I'm just gonna go...get...Jet..." He left the room without finishing the thought.

Once out of sight of Ed, he went into panic mode.

"_JEEEEEET!!!"_

Jet stuck his head out of his room. "What?" he asked irritably. "Can't find any mastodon for your dinner?"

"No...it's...Ed...girly things..." Spike shuddered in repulsion. Jet grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. Hard.

"Stop babbling and tell me what's wrong with Ed, you moron!"

Spike took a deep breath and yelled, "She got her first period!"

Jet dropped Spike on the floor and stared in horror. "No..." he said desperately. "It can't be..."

Spike looked up from his position on the floor and nodded as he took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit up. "Yep. Which means...one of us is gonna have to tell her what's going on." He smirked. "Not me. You're the father figure, after all. You said so yourself."

Jet grabbed the cigarette out of Spike's, threw it on the floor, and crushed it with the heel of his boot. He jabbed his finger at Spike. "No, Spike, it should be _you_," he jabbed, "because _you're_ the one who pissed Faye off," yet another jab, "and _you're _ the one who got us into this. So it's gonna be _you_."

Spike growled. "That was my last cigarette."

"And another thing," Jet continued. "_You're_ going to be the one who'll take her to get those...things...that women buy."

"I don't have any more cigarettes." Spike's tone was calm, yet cold.

"And furthermore, _you're_ going to pay for those...those _things_!" Jet huffed.

Spike clenched his hands into fists. "Now I have to go buy cigarettes. And it's all...your...fault..." Suddenly, his leg lashed out and a second later, Jet was sitting on the floor beside him.

The vein in Jet's forehead began to twitch. He silently reached into his pocket and withdrew two cigarettes, keeping one for himself and giving one to Spike. They lit up in silence.

Finally, Spike spoke. "I still think you should do it. Why don't you deal with a pissy woman for once?"

Spike heard Jet move, and then his door slam, and Spike was left sitting in the hallway.

"Craaaaaaap..."

"Okay, Ed," Spike announced as he sauntered into the living room. "We're going shopping. For...new toys for you."

"Yay!" Ed jumped up and down on the couch.

Spike rolled his eyes. "I need to call...someone."

He grabbed his phone and rushed into the kitchen. Frantically, he dialed a number and waited until Faye answered. "Faye, I need to talk to you!"

"What." It wasn't a question. It was more like a "what the hell do you want" in disguise.

"Well, hello to you too." Spike smirked. Despite himself, he already missed that bitchy voice playing across the living room, spitting out insults and retorts. "Look, I need a little information." _Just play it cool, don't let her know you're freaking out..._ "Ed just got her first period, and seeing as we need supplies, I was hoping you could tell me what to get for her."

Faye snickered. "I can't believe this. This is just too perfect. Are you sure you're not calling me to get me to come back early?"

Spike grinned. "And ruin your vacation? I wouldn't _dream_ of it. Just give me the information I need and I'll be out of your hair."

"Fine. Don't get her any tampons," Spik cringed involuntarily at the word, "because she won't know how to use them. Pads would be perfect...something with wings, a regular size."

"Anything else?"

"Pain killers. Nothing too strong, you don't want her to OD or anything."

Spike rolled his eyes. "I'm not that stupid, Faye."

"What, you think "lunkhead" is a term of endearment? You moron." _Click_.

Spike sighed and put the phone on the kitchen table. "Sadistic bitch."

He walked back into the room where Ed was waiting and stopped dead. "Ed, what's that stain on the couch?"

She smiled. "It's the icky!"

Spike slumped against the wall. "Okay. Let's go." He made a mental note to buy stain remover. Or, if all else failed, a new couch.

The aisle was huge. It was all Spike could do to not cry.

Ed was currently bouncing around the candy aisle. The sales clerk was glaring at him as if he strongly disapproved of Ed's antics, but Spike shrugged it off. "Let someone else deal with a damn problem for once," he mumbled to himself.

Okay...he had to narrow it down. Wings, that's what Faye had said. Okay. Wings.

Looking around, Spike repressed a foul word as it rose to his tongue. Half of the damn aisle was pads with wings. Something regular. Okay. He would do this by process of elimination. Not slims, not maxi, not mini, not g-string...wait, what? He shook his head and kept going. Night-time, panty liners...ah, here it was. Regular with wings.

He grabbed a pack of twelve and paused. How long was a period supposed to last for? He couldn't remember. So how many did he need?

A few seconds later he had a total of sixty pads in his arms and was making his way up to the checkout counter. He dumped the packages onto the counter and paused. What else had Faye told him to get? He couldn't remember. He decided that it wasn't that important if he'd already forgotten. He paused...wait...it was coming to him...

Stain remover. That's what he'd forgotten. He raced to the back of the store and picked up a bottle from the cleaning section. _Cleans any stain in seconds._ Perfect.

"Ed, let's go!" Spike swiped his card and paid the cashier, then strolled out of the store and back toward the ship, Ed in tow.

She was skipping around and singing songs about butterflies. Weird little kid.

Once they got home it was a breeze. The stain came out of the couch, the _icky_ stopped coming out of Ed, and a few hours later, she was asleep.

Finally. The end of an incredibly tiring, embarrassing, and trying day.

Spike flopped down on the couch, careful to avoid what he had dubbed _the spot_ and turned on the TV. A few minutes later, he'd already drifted off into his own little personal world of dreams and no women.

Suddenly, a scream tore throughout the Bebop.

He jumped up from the couch and raced toward Ed's room, panicking.

There she was sitting on the bed, clutching at her abdomen. "I hurt! Spike, make it _stop_!!!"

Crap. Now he remembered what he had forgotten.

Pain killers.

It was going to be a long night.

TBC...

Hey guys...my first fic after three years. Tell me what you think. I'm so excited to get back into the ff.n community!! Hurrah!!! Let me know. Next chapter up soon. Smilies!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of the characters, and I never will, no matter how much it bums me out.

Author's Note: Part Two, here we go. Feedback would be much appreciated. Enjoy!

Seventy Two Hours

Part II

Spike rolled his head over to face the back of the couch and moaned.

It had been an extremely long night. And he had two more days to go.

Oh. God.

Stretching, he stood and padded his way into the kitchen. He was starving. His stomach growled and he patted it affectionately. "I know, buddy. I know," he reassured his gut. He looked up as he entered the kitchen and stopped short.

There, on the table, was Ed, with her legs hanging off the edge and her toes entwined in Ein's fur.

Spike rolled his eyes and debated on whether or not he should wake Ed up. She began to snore softly.

If he woke her up, Spike knew he'd have to deal with some serious hormones. If she stayed asleep, she'd probably end up drowning in a pool of her own drool.

Spike nudged her shoulder and she stirred a little. Her eyes opened slightly and then closed again.

Hm. That was strange. Ed was usually up super early. What was wrong with her?

He grabbed her arms and shook them. "Ed...Ed!" he called out, to no avail.

He picked her up and shook her. "Edward!"

"Wau!" Ed opened her eyes lazily and giggled. "Spikey-Spike!" She squirmed out of his grasp and slinked onto the ground. Her eyes slid shut and she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

At that moment Jet walked into the kitchen, pointedly ignoring Spike.

"Jet..." Spike started.

"Hmph." Jet refused to look at him.

"Jet, Ed's acting...funny. She's sleepy. All I did was give her pain killers last night - "

"You did _what_?!" Jet whirled to face Spike. "And just what did you do that for?!"

Spike shrugged. "She had the icky."

"The what?" Jet asked, a wonderfully dumbfounded look playing across his face.

"Oh, sorry. That's what Ed calls it." Spike rephrased. "Her _period_ you moron. What do you think I'm talking about? Anyway, she was hurting and I forgot to buy her pain killers, so I gave her some of Faye's. She should be fine. But she's all...well..." He pointed at the ground as if to illustrate his point.

"Spike, just what did you give her?!"

Spike shrugged. "Pain killers. I'm sure the bottle is somewhere around here." He began to hunt for the pill bottle, sweeping crumbs and wrappers aside.

Jet cursed under his breath and picked Ed up, taking her into the living room and putting her down on the couch.

Spike entered the room with a pill bottle in hand and a lit cigarette in his mouth. "Here," he mumbled, tossing the bottle to Jet. "I think this is the one. I found it in Faye's...girl crap box."

Jet caught the bottle and eyed it suspiciously for a moment. "Spike!"

The bounty hunter lifted Ed's feet up so he could slump down on the couch. "What?"

"How many of these did you give her?"

Spike shrugged. "I dunno. Like two or three."

The vein in Jet's forehead pulsated. "You gave her Vicodin!"

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Wait...is that bad?"

Jet threw his hands up in exasperation and began to pace the room. "Are you crazy? Don't you know anything about medicine and kids and stuff?"

Spike snorted and puffed on his cigarette. "Do I _look_ like a father figure?"

The older man paused. "No. You don't. But you don't look like an idiot either, at least, not at first glance! Come on, Spike, how could you just give her random pills?"

Spike rolled his eyes irritably. "I didn't know that it would be that bad for her. I bet she'll snap out of it in a little bit and be bouncing around again in no time."

A little moan came from the couch. Ed. Then the snoring started again.

"Well," Jet said, "she'll probably be fine, but we still have a serious problem. We need her to help us track a bounty before he leaves the area."

Spike stood and put his cigarette out in the ashtray on the coffee table. "So, we can do that. We're not stupid."

Jet scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, but this guy sure is a hell of a lot smarter than us. He's a computer hacker - "

"Bring him on. We need the money. If all else fails, we can shoot him down." Spike shoved his hands into his pockets and strode toward the computer unit.

Jet followed him, glancing back at Ed uncertainly. "But...what about Ed?"

Spike raised an eyebrow. "It'll wear off. She'll be fine."

Jet shifted uncomfortably. "You know, Faye would kill you if she was here."

Spike ignored him and got the computer system booted up. He pulled up the information on the next bounty. "Roei Wochinsky. Computer hacker, responsible for deleting entire I.S.S.P. Database. They're offering fifty million as a reward. Rumored to still be in this area." Spike looked behind him toward Jet. "What else have we got?"

Jet took a seat beside Spike and started up their communication devices. "Ed saved her progress on here. She got Wochinsky's location narrowed down pretty good. In fact, she knows which ship he's on. We just need to hack into his ship's computer and shut it down. Then, we swoop in and collect the bounty." Jet snapped his fingers. "Easy."

Spike nodded. "Well, seeing as I'm not quite as technologically retarded as you are, I'll start the hacking program and we'll send it out."

Jet looked nervous. "Spike, you know that's a complicated system...one wrong turn and - "

Spike shot Jet a look that stopped him mid-sentence. "I know, Jet. Don't worry. It's easy. As long as he doesn't know we're here..."

He left the sentence hanging in mid air, and typed in a sequence. Another window popped up, giving the two bounty hunters full diagnostic screens on the bounty's ship. Fantastic.

Spike leaned back. "See, he never even knew we were there! And we didn't even need Ed - "

At that moment, all the lights in the Bebop went out. The computer screens screeched as they went blank and the ship shook as if a giant had just grabbed it and pounded it against a brick wall.

"Spike?" a voice from the darkness.

"Yeah, Jet."

"You sure he doesn't know we're here?"

Spike ignored the question and paused before breaking the silence. "Jet?"

"What?"

"Don't we have a secondary power source?"

Jet nodded. "Yeah, it should come on in another minute, but it's not enough to start the ship, and less than a third of the lights are gonna come back on."

"What do you mean, start the ship? We have gas."

"Yeah, but you can't start a car without a battery, and we can't start the ship without power."

"Crap."

"Yeah, crap." Ouch. He sounded angry. "And it's mostly your fault. _You_ were the one that drugged her." A few lights came on, flickering briefly for a second before shining steadily and dimly illuminating the room.

"No, _I_ was the one that was watching out for our eardrums! Do you have any idea how much noise she was making? I had to get some sleep!" Spike was beginning to get irritated, and he pulled out a cigarette.

Jet sighed angrily. "Well, now we're stuck. We can't even get the Hammerhead or the Swordfish out, because we don't have enough power to open up the Bebop's gates. We'll just have to wait until Ed wakes up. She'll be able to override the hackers commands on our system."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "That sucks. So we lose the bounty, we have no power to start the ship, and the only person that could save us is practically in a coma..."

Jet cracked his knuckles. "Yeah, Spike. Keep talking."

The phone began to ring. Spike glanced down to see who was calling.

"Wow, it's Faye." Spike blinked. "She smells trouble, doesn't she?"

"What are you going to say to her?" Jet inquired.

Spike shrugged. "Whatever I feel like." He picked up the phone and made a face.

He answered. "Hey, Faye...yeah, we're fine. Oh...yeah, that. Ed's fine. Wait, does she what? Change it? Are you kidding me?" His tone became irritable. "Fine...fine. I'll ask her. No...uh, she's in the bathroom. I don't know, she's doing whatever chicks do when they get the icky! Look, can't talk, we're on a bounty hunt. Have fun fucking everything that moves." He hung up and smirked.

Jet lit a cigarette. "How unlike you," he commented, just a hint of sarcasm tainting his voice.

"Yeah." Spike puffed on his cigarette and silence reigned for a moment.

"So, what did she say?" Jet finally asked.

Spike shrugged. "She just wanted to make sure Ed was still alive. And she said that Ed needed to change her...thing. Like, often."

Jet grimaced. "Why do men and women live in the same universe? Someone had to know it wouldn't work out."

Spike cracked his neck and put his cigarette out. "Time to check on our favorite little hacker."

He went into the other room, where Ed lay on the floor, snoring lightly and twitching every so often.

"Ed..._Ed_!" he said as he shook her.

"WOWIE!" she said, bouncing up off the ground and latching onto his shoulders. Spike struggled to stand, and only a desperate clutch at the couch saved him from falling on his ass. Once upright, he did his best to pry Ed's fingers out of his eyeballs, and in the process, stumbled over Ein and actually _did_ fall on his ass.

Ed finally let go and rolled off of Spike onto the floor. She yawned and stretched into an impossible form before standing unsteadily before him and giving a lazy salute.

"Edward is awake, _sir_!" She giggled.

Spike struggled to stand without crushing Ein, and Jet appeared in the doorway. "Ed," Jet started, "what's going on?"

Ed danced around the room. "Ed has the icky and it's fuuuuuuuun!"

Jet glanced at Spike. "What exactly is the icky?" he asked in a whisper.

Spike shook his head. "Never mind." He turned his attention toward Ed. "Hey, Ed, we need your help. The ship is stopped. While you were asleep, a bounty shut down our power source, and we need you to help us get the Bebop running again."

She jumped onto the couch where Ein was sprawled out and squeezed him. "Okay!"

She dragged Ein into the communication room with her, and Spike and Jet followed.

Plunking herself down in the chair in front of the main computer, she began to type furiously, alternating between her left hand and her right foot. With her free hand she scratched her head and began to hum to herself.

Furious beeping filled the room. "Uh oh!"

Jet and Spike rushed toward Ed and looked over her shoulder. "What's going on?" Jet asked.

"The bad man-man is trying to kaboom our system!" She giggled. "I have to neutralize him! Fast-fast-fast!" She typed faster. "Need to beat him...ten more seconds...Ed needs the code..."

Jet and Spike, unsure of the gravity of the situation, stood by, mouths agape, waiting to see what would happen.

Suddenly, Ed let out a whoop and a second later, the lights came back on, full blast, nearly blinding them all. The ship let out a low rumble and the vibrations shook throughout the entire room.

"Yay!" Ed cheered. "The bad man's system went bye-bye! We can go and ker-pow him now!"

Jet gave a sigh of relief. "Good. Spike, get ready to take him out. I'll lock the computer onto his co-ordinates and we can catch him. He's a sitting duck, with his ship system down."

Spike grinned. "Payback's a - "

Suddenly the lights went out and the rumbling stopped. The three were pitched forward toward the far end of the room as the ship stopped moving.

Jet cursed. "We're out of gas!"

Spike sighed and finished his sentence. "...bitch." He sat in a chair and slumped over onto the desk, cursing internally.

Ed sprang up and skipped over to Spike. "Spike-Spike?"

"What Ed?" he answered without lifting his head up from the desk.

"When does the icky go away?"

Spike sat up and shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know. Soon. Why?" He heard Jet guffawing in the background and made a mental note to get revenge at a later date.

Ed's mouth twisted into a frown. "Because my new toys aren't working anymore."

"How many have you used?" Spike asked.

Ed thought for a moment. "One."

Spike threw up his hands in exasperation. "But you have like sixty of them! Go...play with another one!"

Ed's face lit up. "You mean, I can play with as many as I want?"

Spike waved her away. "Sure. As many as you want. Just as long as you let me know when you run out."

"Yippeeeeeeee-ye!" Ed ran away, arms outstretched like a plane and she disappeared into the next room.

Spike sighed a sigh of relief and turned to Jet, who was trying his best not to laugh.

"Shut up," he said, past the point of pissed off. "What do we do now?"

Jet smirked. "We wait for Faye to get back and see how we botched up the job. She's the only one who can bring us gas and not screw us over."

Spike curled his lip at the thought. "She's also the only one who would _purposely_ screw us over."

Jet shrugged. "That's the way it works with her. You know that." He started to make his way out of the control room, chuckling. "Maybe if you weren't so caught up with impressing her, you wouldn't have this problem. Stop trying to impress her, and maybe you'll stop looking like such a – well, as she would put it, a lunkhead."

Spike growled. "You're just jealous because I'm not afraid of the she-beast."

Jet smirked and turned back toward the door. "If you say so. I'm just saying - " He stopped short in the doorway and made no further attempt to finish his sentence.

"Just saying _what_?" Spike demanded, coming up beside him. He, too, stopped short. "Oh." He swallowed nervously. "Oh no."

Ed was sitting on the living room floor. Making a fort. Out of...

"Look, Spike-Spike, I'm playing with my new toys!"


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of the characters.

Author's note: This is the last chapter. I hope you all enjoyed. Let me know what you think.

Seventy Two Hours

Part III

The third day had begun.

Spike was in his room, curled up among the mass of blankets and snoring lightly. All was still and dark.

A crack of light appeared, searing across the floor and dividing the room in two as the door opened soundlessly and a head popped through. A black form crept into the room and up to the bed, staring at the man tangled in the covers. Spike twitched, as if he sensed that someone was watching him. He cracked one eye open began to scan the darkness.

Something was shining in front of him...something that looked like...

Eyes...

"Agh!" Suddenly, he sat bolt-upright, and his face collided with a solid wall of screaming Ed.

Rolling out of bed, Spike struggled to untangle his feet from the sheets. Ein was jumping all over him by this time and Ed was still hollering, although about what Spike still hadn't figured out.

Spike stood and quickly took a couple of steps back to distance himself from Ed and catch his breath. "What the hell are you doing in here, Ed? It's like four in the morning!"

Ed bounced – yes, Spike checked, she was bouncing – up and down and giggling. "Ed is hungry and her belly is making noooooooiiiises..." She circled the bed and came right up to Spike. "Please, Spike-Spike, take Ed to eat some fooood!"

Spike sighed. "No, Ed. Wait until morning. I'll take you then. I'm sleeping. I want to sleep. I like sleeping. Sleeping is my friend." He scowled at her, hoping that she'd managed to understand at least one word of what he'd said through her newly raging hormones. She nodded in what Spike believed was understanding.

Fake out.

"Okay! Let's go _now now now now now now now now_! Whaaaahoooey!!!" She spread her arms out and "flew" around the room for a few seconds as Ein chasing her and barked repeatedly.

"Alright," Spike said, surrendering. When Ed didn't stop, he began to raise his voice. "Alright, alright, _alright_!" He sighed. "Jeez. Let's go. Get in the Swordfish." As Ed raced out of the room, Spike sat back down on the bed and scratched the back of his head, searching through the semi-darkness with the other hand for a t-shirt. No use getting all dressed up for food at four in the morning. He found one tangled among his sheets and slipped it on, simultaneously wiping the sleep from his eyes.

As he made his way toward the Swordfish, and probably what would turn out to be the worst breakfast he would ever suffer through, he frowned as he thought that Faye was probably right; taking care of Ed was a lot more trouble than it seemed. Ed was a kid, after all, and kids needed to be raised and brought up to be responsible, intelligent and valuable individuals. Spike snorted. Or something like that.

Wiping all of these thoughts from his head, he got into the Swordfish, and after a heated debate about whether Ein was going or not (Spike got his way in the end and Ein ended up staying on the ship) Spike started the ship. He waited for the gates to open, thinking about how lucky it was that they were out of gas instead of power. Without power, he wouldn't have been able to open the gates and he would have been stuck with a whiny, clingy, hungry Ed for the rest of the night. At least with no gas the gates could still open.

As Spike left the Bebop, he looked back on the sad, slow figure, and for a moment actually considered bringing some gas back...but no, he didn't have enough cash for all that gas _and_ gas for the Swordfish _and_ food for Ed. He shrugged. Jet had, after all, decided not to help Spike with Ed anymore after the "fort" incident. He owed Jet nothing. Jet could suffer for a little longer. At least until Faye got back. Spike shuddered. The she-beast would return.

At least she would save him from Ed.

Still, it was a high price to pay for his sanity.

Ed was keeping to herself, humming and drawing with her fingers on the windows. Spike shook his head. "Stupid women and their stupid problems."

As they approached the nearest planet, Spike saw on the map that it was Mars and cringed internally. It was fucking _expensive_ there. He's probably have to cut off at least one testicle to pay for just Ed's meal. Resisting the urge to bang his head against the door of the ship, Spike crossed over the Martian border and began settling on a place to land.

"Look, Spike Spike," said Ed as she pointed at the planet ahead of them, "It's the same color as Ed's icky!"

Stab. Stab, stab, stab.

Spike was picking at his steak and eggs. The meat was rare. Still mooing. Surrounded by the bloody juices.

Bloody juices.

He _definitely_ wasn't hungry anymore. He pushed his plate away and downed his early morning drink in one gulp, turning his eye back to Ed to see how she was doing with her plate. Surprisingly enough, all fourteen of the pancakes had disappeared into what Jet so often referred to as the "bottomless pit." She was just about to pick up the plate to lick the syrup off it when Spike stopped her with a shake of his head. She put the plate down with a shrug.

Spike raised an eyebrow at himself. Had he just taught Ed – what was the word? - manners?

He looked at his clock and saw that it was about six in the morning. The stores would be opening up soon, and he didn't want to be anywhere near Mars when it exploded with life. People sucked. Especially morning people.

Ed sighed. Spike did his best to ignore her. She sighed when she wanted something, and if he didn't pay attention to her, they just might make it back to the Bebop before she asked him for something. She sighed again, and Spike called for the check. Ed began to fidget and lick her lips, as a tune began to lilt out of her nostrils and through her now tightly compressed lips.

Spike froze. When she sang, she was fine. When she hummed...it was all over.

"Spike-Spiiiiiiiiiiiiike..." she started, doing her best to look innocent.

Spike felt a ton of bricks crash down on his brain as he realized that he'd just lost the game. Now he _had_ to respond. He looked over the check to avoid looking her in the eyes. "Yeah, Ed." He placed the money on the table and the waiter came by to collect it.

"Ed needs some new thingies..." she said persuasively

Spike's eyes bulged. "What? You already used _all_ the toys?"

Ed shook her head and giggled. "No, silly Spikey-Spike! Ed needs...thingies...for..." She sighed, exasperated and in a split second she had her hands on Spike's chest – or rather, cupping Spike's chest. "Thingies for these!" she exclaimed happily, giving him a little squeeze.

Spike pushed her hands away. "Hey! What are you doing?"

She hummed in amusement. "Faye-Faye's are bigger..."

"Faye-Faye's a slut."

Ed cocked her head. "Huh?"

"Never mind." Spike suspected that that sort of language wasn't exactly appropriate around her.

Ed shrugged and began to slink down toward the floor. The only thing that kept her form sliding under the table completely was a look from Spike. "Ed is showing Spikey-man what she _neeeeeedssss..._thingies for her thingies!" Practically squealing out the last few words of the sentence, Spike had to hastily shush her, and finally resorted to grabbing her by the hand and leading her out of the restaurant into the dim sunlight which was now overtaking the planet.

Spike lit a cigarette and puffed on it in agitation. It was way too early to be smoking, but he didn't care. He knew that he looked like shit in a pair of baggy jeans and a t-shirt, with bags under his eyes and his hair sticking out at odd angles. He didn't care. He just didn't want to give Ed what he suspected she wanted.

"Explain," he demanded.

Ed grinned. "Ed-Ed wants a laaaaacy thingie like Faye-Faye has in her secret no-no-touch drawer!"

Spike's heart sunk as he realized what Ed wanted. "A bra?" he asked, incredulous. He shook his head as her face brightened. "No. No way in hell. I am _not_ taking you bra shopping, and especially _not_ at six fifteen in the morning." He shoved a hand through his hair. "Besides, there's probably nothing open, anyway."

Ed shook her finger at him and laughed out loud. "Wrong you are! There is a twenty-four hour shopaholic happy chappy mall here! Whoooo!" She did the airplane thing again for a minute until Spike grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.

"Fine! Just _stop being a twerp_!" He let her go and picked at his t-shirt nervously as he put his cigarette out with the heel of his shoe. "If I take you, can we go back to the Bebop when you're finished?"

Ed nodded enthusiastically.

Spike rolled his eyes and Ed grabbed his hand, leading him off into the midst of the early birds already filling the streets.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me."

Spike eyed the display in front of him with distaste as Ed pressed her face up against the glass. On the other side of the window was the most assorted collection of skanky lingerie that Spike had ever seen. The crotchless panties were the most innocent of all the items in the window.

"Ed," he said scratching his head, "I don't really think that this is the place we want to be – Ed? Ed!" He saw the back of Ed disappear into the shop and gritted his teeth as he realized that he would have to follow her and drag her back out.

"This day _sucks,_" Spike muttered as he strolled into the store, hands in his pockets, gaze fixed firmly on the floor.

Once he had the courage to look around, he wished he hadn't. Strange lacy garments surrounded him, threatening to strangle him should he set one foot wrong. He navigated his way through the racks of what he decided was best described as "embarrassment" until he reached the back end of the store. As he began to take note of his surroundings once more, he realized that this was much more tame...yes...normal people underwear.

Thank God.

Feeling a little more at ease, he called out for Ed. "Edward! Where are you? If you don't come out right now - !" He cut himself short, realizing that a wooden spoon and a bun would complete his eerily accurate impression of an old hag. Shuddering slightly, he shook his head and fixed his gaze firmly upon one of the racks of clothes – the one that held the bright red bras.

"Hm." He pondered what Faye would look like in one of those. "Not bad, I guess..." He shook his head again as if to clear it. What was he _thinking_? Faye? The annoying shrew? Come _on_...

A shriek and something landing on his back made Spike start. He swiveled around and attempted to pull the thing off his back with a yell.

"Ahem."

Spike ignored the new voice for a minute while he struggled to rip Ed off of his shoulders. "Ed, get _off_ me!"

"_Ahem_."

Spike finally turned and stopped, Ed dangling from his hand like a rag doll. "What?" he demanded crankily.

The saleswoman raised an eyebrow at him and looked pointedly at the girl caught in his hand. Spike shifted uncomfortably and let Ed slide out of his hand and onto the floor, where she sat looking up at him with a dazed but happy expression on her face.

The saleswoman approached Ed. She looked like an old bat to Spike, with her short, dyed, ginger hair and her wrinkly face and excessive make up. The woman pinched Ed's cheeks and Spike cringed just watching her.

"And what are we looking for today, honey?" the woman asked ever so sweetly.

Ed giggled. "Ed needs a laaaaaaaacy thingie for her thingies!"

The saleswoman's expression softened as she looked at Spike. "Oh," she said softly, "are you the girl's father?" She smiled at him and he shuddered.

"Actually, no, I'm just a friend."

The woman's expression hardened and he eyes gained a steely glint as she looked him up and down. "A little old to be her _friend_, aren't you?" Her voice had a totally different quality about it and it was much more forceful – hell, Spike would have called it intimidating. But Spike never got intimidated.

He shrugged on shoulder. "She lives with me. Alternate lifestyle."

"Hm..." The woman pursed her lips in disapproval. "Very well. And what can I get for her?"

Spike reddened just the tiniest bit as he said, "A bra."

The woman smirked, sensing Spike's discomfort. "But of course. Over here we've got something perfect for her size." She led them both over to a rack with elastic little bras. "Of course, she'll have to try them on first, and she should probably have at least three or four."

Spike gaped. "Three or four?"

"Five would be more than adequate," the woman added with a smirk at Spike's obvious discomfort.

Ed was already elbow deep in the "thingies" and held at least three in her hands already. "Look, Spike-Spike, a reddy one and a bluuuuuuuuuuuueberry one and a meany-greeny!!!!"

The woman leaned over to Spike. "A white and a black one are also quite necessary. Base colors, of course."

Spike curled his upper lip. "Of course. Fine. Ed, go try them on."

"Weeeeeeeeeeee!" Ed skipped off after the saleswoman toward the dressing room.

Spike glanced nervously around and tried to keep his attention on the floor for the most part. He knew that when Ed was done, which wouldn't be long, he would be able to just swipe his card, pay for the goods and go home. Finally.

He heard someone come up behind him, but paid no attention. It was probably some woman trying to sex herself up for her husband.

A hand gripping his ass proved otherwise.

"Hey!" Spike yelped and turned around to come face to face with...

Or rather, face to chest. He looked up and saw stocky, musclular shoulders which gave way to a strong neck, which gave way to stubble, which led up to a made-up face, which led to long blonde hair covered in bows.

Oh. Gawd.

Spike took a step back involuntarily as he realized that he was probably the only human being that had ever been grabbed by a transvestite in a lingerie shop.

"You look pretty," the...thing husked. He leaned in closely and eyeballed Spike. "What's a fine, strong man like you doing in a place like this?"

Spike shook his head. "Not looking for a date..."

The man in front of him twirled his hair around one hairy-knuckled, dantily painted fingernail and giggled sickly.

Spike backed away and ran into a rack of g-strings. "Look, I'm shopping here. Just waiting for my...uh...daughter to finish trying on clothes."

The transvestite's voice became suddenly rough. "You ain't gonna accept my offer, then?" Spike heard knuckles cracking and merely blinked. This guy was tough, but Spike knew he was tougher.

"No, I'm not." He took a step forward and came toe to toe with him. "So you'll just have to get over me," he paused and put special emphasis on the last word, "_precious._"

The man in front of his snarled and made a grab for Spike – but before he knew what was happening he was sailing over Spike's shoulder and into a rack of bras. Not to be outdone, he grabbed the said rack and charged Spike, who deftly stepped out of the way and let him run into the huge full length mirror which lined one wall. Glass splintered off and hit Spike in the face. "God, it's like shooting myself in the foot..." Spike muttered in agitaion as he brushed the shards off of his face, cutting himself in the process.

Spike swooped down on his opponent. He grabbed the rack out of his hand and spin-kicked him in the chest, causing him to fall back onto yet another rack – there were just too many damn racks here, but then again, it was a lingerie store – and the transvestite fell onto the floor with a crash, but his foot came up involuntarily and smacked Spike in the face. Spike shoved a bunch of other racks and pieces of lacy crap out of the way as he charged again -

"Spikey-Spike!"

Ed was standing in front of him, with all of what looked like six bras on over her clothing. She grinned gleefully and jumped up and down. "Yay! Look at my thingies!"

The saleswoman, however, was not so happy to see Spike again. "What..." She faltered as she looked around the store. It was in a real state. Almost every bit of clothing was on the ground or tangled around the trans. She quickly regained her voice, however. "What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" she demanded angrily, her voice becoming shriller by the second. "Fighting in my store! I can't _believe_ this!"

She kept wringing her hands and shouting and Spike knew it was time to go. He threw some cash to pay for the bras into the air behind him as he grabbed Ed's hands and jerked her out of the store before the woman could block their path or the trans woke up.

They didn't stop running until they reached the Swordfish.

The gate was opening. Spike could hear it through the ice pack on his left ear. The trans had managed to get in a couple of shots. He could also feel the band-aid tearing at his eyebrow as it stopped the blood from seeping out of the cut there. His shoulder hurt.

And the wench was home.

He stood and stretched languidly. Pulling a cigarette out of his pack, he slumped back down on the couch before lighting it. Ed was elsewhere. Ein was with her. Jet was watching them in the next room, and every so often Spike thought he heard something coming from his door that sounded like, "Boundless bonsai, boundless, beautiful bonsai..."

A click of heels announced Faye's arrival. "I'm back! Any survivors?" She spotted Spike on the couch and stopped abruptly, a smirk playing across her face. "What happened to you?"

Spike smirked back at her. "Ed started her period. Jet abandoned me. We're out of gas, Ed has six new bras and I got into a fight with a transvestite that grabbed my ass in a lingerie shop. Oh, and we're out of milk."

Faye plopped down on the couch next to him and grabbed a cigarette from his pack. He was too tired to protest. "I had an _excellent_ time on Venus. Won everything. And you wouldn't believe who I caught on the way home." She paused as she lit the cigarette. Blowing a steam of smoke out of her mouth, she continued. "Roei Wochinsky. He was a sitting duck in a ship without power. There was even an extra bounty placed on him so I collected around a million woolongs. And you boys," she glanced at Spike disdainfully before continuing, "get _nothing_."

Spike didn't even have the strength to moan.

Faye stood. "Where's Ed?"

Spike pointed toward the other room and Faye sauntered over to the doorway to look in.

"My God..."

"What?" Spike asked irritably.

"Check it out, cowboy."

Spike moaned and eased himself up off of the couch. He paced over to the door and leaned against its frame to take in the sight before him.

Ed, asleep inside her fort of pads, wearing four training bras in various places on her torso, one on her foot and one on her head. Ein was laying next to her with pads stuck to his fur and one wedged rather tightly between his legs.

Jet was there too, slouched over his bonsai plants and mumbling in his sleep. He was missing one eyebrow. One of his bonsais was stripped of greenery completely and had shreds of what Spike could only assume were the remains of a pad stuck to it.

Faye raised an eyebrow at Spike and back away from the doorway to return to the yellow couch. Spike followed her and sat beside her, not looking at her.

"Wow," she said finally. "I can't believe you handled that."

"I can't believe you got _our_ bounty." Spike puffed on his cigarette.

She shrugged. "He was there. He was easy. You guys are just lame."

Spike snorted.

Faye sighed and chuckled. "I'm actually impressed, Spike. In fact, I could even pity you." She shifted so that one leg was folded under her on the couch and she was facing him. "You did good."

Spike stiffened a little. A compliment? From the shrew? From Faye Valentine? "Hm." He decided that thanking her would be a bad move. Better to remain neutral. "Yeah."

She stood up and the smirk returned to her face. "I'm proud. Maybe you aren't such a lunkhead after all." And she swooped down and kissed him on the lips with a smack.

Then she leaned back, a glint in her eye.

"There you go, cowboy. There's your thanks."

She left the room and he watched her retreating backside with interest until she was out of sight.

He leaned his head back against the couch and stared at the ceiling.

A voice penetrated the silence.

"Spikey-Spike..."

"Yeah Ed."

"Where do itty-bitty babies come from?"

"..._FAYE!!!_"

END.

Notes: Thank you all for reading! I'm sorry if I led any of you to believe that it was going to be SpikexEd...I'm not really a fan of that pairing. I'm more for SpikexFaye. So sorry if I disappointed any of you. Hope you liked it regardless. It was fun to write. Cheers!


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